


steeped in burning flowers

by onecentpipit



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 03:43:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2566970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onecentpipit/pseuds/onecentpipit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shouyou definitely isn't stripping petals off flowers to figure out whether Kageyama likes him.</p><p>That would mean leaving it to chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	steeped in burning flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KKKraze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KKKraze/gifts).



> dear kkkraze: i'm no good at angst but i hope you enjoy this lighthearted romance~
> 
> kisses to k, c, and m for beta-ing and holding my hand these past few days. you are all so lovely and wonderful!!
> 
>  
> 
> title taken from e.e. cummings's "i will wade out"

On a good day, it takes Shouyou five minutes to barrel out of the house, half an hour to bike through the mountains at top speed to reach downtown, and a few fraught minutes to navigate the urban morning rush before skidding to stop in front of the Azumane Family Florists. Today though, at the cusp of summer, the muscles in Shouyou's legs burn as he pumps them against the rain.

“You're late,” Sugawara scolds when Shouyou bursts into the shop five minutes after his shift starts. “And wet.”

“I'm sorry!” Shouyou tugs off his damp windbreaker and gets tangled up in his apron as he tries to bow in apology at the same time. Sugawara laughs and bats his hands out of the way, tying the apron strings neatly behind his back.

“As long as it doesn't happen again.” The warning is light and playful, like Sugawara's laughter, and Shouyou blushes. “Go dry off in the backroom.”

“Yes, of course,” Shouyou says, straightening quickly to attention. “Thank you!”

“Don't scare Yachi-san today, Hinata,” Sugawara calls out after him and Shouyou slows down from his running start, closing the Employees' Only door behind him with as much delicacy as he can muster. Shouyou's skin prickles in the cool air conditioning and he shivers as he picks his way through the mist sprays and the thick clusters of potted hydrangeas on the floor. Yachi is in the back, arranging a bouquet of purple irises.

“That looks amazing!”  Shouyou can't help himself from commenting and Yachi squeaks at Shouyou's sudden compliment. He rushes to steady her before she can knock over the bucket of flowers beside her. “Ah, are you okay?”

“I'm fine, Hinata-kun,” Yachi says. “You just surprised me a bit.”

“I didn't mean to.” Shouyou bows his head mournfully, hair still matted against his forehead with rainwater, and Yachi giggles as she hands him one of the unused towels next to her.

“I'm used to it now,” she says, and Shouyou droops even further as he continues to towel his hair. Yachi waves her hands reassuringly at him. “It's fine!  Really!  It's good that Hinata-kun is always so lively.”

Shouyou perks up again instantly. “Yachi-san, did you need help with anything?” he asks. Yachi points out the buckets in the corner of untrimmed flowers, and Shouyou quickly settles into a rhythm, taking the occasional peek at Yachi's work. Shouyou lacks the patience and gentle touch to prepare anything, but the most standard bouquets but Yachi has always had a good eye for design. By the time they've set up most of the displays and placed them in the showroom, there are only a few minutes left before opening. The phone rings then and Sugawara answers, murmuring soothingly into the receiver a few times before hanging up.

“Asahi's face seems to have got him in trouble with the nursery again. I need to go smooth things over.”

Yachi gasps. “Is Asahi-san okay?” Contrary to his rough appearance and the wild rumors about his family's business that spread during high school, the first son of the Azumane Family Florists has always possessed a fragile, tender soul.

“He'll be fine,” Sugawara says with the relaxed air of someone who has had to pull Asahi out of such dangerous situations countless times in the past. “But could Yachi-san take over the register while we open?”

“Oh!  Is that okay?” Yachi glances at Shouyou, who nods encouragingly at her. Shouyou might have started working at the shop before Yachi, but the cash register still confuses him with all of the colorful little buttons. Yachi might be shy but probably poses less of a risk behind the desk than he does.

“I'll be here with you,” Shouyou reassures her. “And it's still morning so there won't be that many people.” Yachi nods, a little anxiously, but she goes with Sugawara, who runs through the basic cash register functions with her before taking off. Shouyou finishes sweeping the front of the store and flips the sign on the door to  _OPEN_.

 

Like Shouyou predicted, the morning is slow, and Yachi's voice grows stronger after a few hours. Shouyou has left Yachi alone to handle the front of the store so he can get a few more orchid displays to put in the window when Yachi pokes her head into the backroom.

“Hinata-kun!” she whispers urgently, eyes wide with panic.

“Is something wrong, Yachi-san?”

“There's a customer -- he looks kind of scary -- like  _gwuh_.”

“Oooh, I see!” Shouyou smiles reassuringly, but Yachi's white-knuckled grip on the door handle doesn't loosen. “I can ring him up,” he says and Yachi instantly relaxes.

“Thank you, Hinata-kun!” Yachi darts into the back while Shouyou walks out to the counter to take her place. Out in the front of the store are two men, tall and athletic-looking. They don't seem particularly suspicious, but Yachi didn't overcome her fear of Asahi's appearance until a month after she started working at the shop. And while the one lingering at the door is definitely not as big as Asahi, the grim expression on his face would definitely be enough to scare Yachi.

“I think the yellow ones look nicer... don't you agree, Iwa-chan?” asks the one crouching by a vase of carnations. He's incredibly handsome in a very familiar way, as if he walked off a billboard. Iwa-chan doesn't seem to be charmed by his wink and bright smile.

“Oikawa, aren't you too old to be teasing Kageyama like this now?”

“I'm just being a caring upperclassman,” Oikawa says, innocently, “and looking after my dear former teammate.”

“Just hurry up and pick one,” Iwa-chan growls, a muscle in his jaw jumping ominously, and Oikawa flinches. Shouyou takes that as his cue to step in.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes!”  Oikawa straightens. ”I am looking for some flowers for a friend.  He's not feeling well and I'm hoping to brighten his day.”

“What about one of these flower baskets?” Shouyou asks, showing Oikawa one that Yachi made earlier that morning. Shouyou might not be good with numbers or complicated machines, but he's always been good at making a sale with the neighborhood's old ladies, who are a surprisingly difficult bunch. “The pansies in the middle represent 'caring,' so you'll be able to express your feelings that way.  You can even attach a card with a personalized message.”

“A personalized message?”  Oikawa smile sparkles even more. “Iwa-chan, doesn't that one sound good?”

“Do what you want,” Iwa-chan says, with a long-suffering sigh. Oikawa turns back triumphantly toward Shouyou, who hands him a blank card embossed with the shop's name on the back. Oikawa eagerly scribbles a few words on it:

_Tobio-chan~  Get well soon!!_

            _\-- Oikawa Tooru_

The last is signed with a flourish as Oikawa slams the pen down onto the counter. Shouyou fixes the folded card near the base of the flower stems and manages to ring up Oikawa for the correct price with minimal fuss.

Looking down at his receipt, Oikawa huffs as he takes his credit card back from Shouyou. “That was more expensive than I thought it would be.”

Iwa-chan rolls his eyes at Oikawa's pout, and Shouyou steels himself for a potential outburst, but Iwa-chan merely picks up the basket and slaps Oikawa’s shoulder as he turns to leave. “Come on, we should get going if you don’t want your coach to get mad again.”

<>Oikawa skips happily after Iwa-chan. The bell on the door tinkles merrily and Shouyou stares after them.

“Have a good day,” he says, blankly, bowing out of habit even though they can’t see him. Yachi pokes her head out from the back.

“Are they gone?” she asks, looking around the shop and stepping out when she doesn’t see anyone but Shouyou.

“Yeah, they just left,” he answers. Yachi begins thanking him again and only stops when Sugawara finally returns with an embarrassed Asahi in tow. Now that the shop is fully staffed, Shouyou can finally go out to make deliveries.

“Ride safely,” Sugawara calls out after Shouyou as he secures the delivery cart to the back of his bicycle. The sky has cleared from this morning but the ground is still wet. Shouyou firmly pulls his helmet on.

“I will!”  Shouyou pulls on his helmet, swings his leg over his bicycle, and heads downtown. Despite the hectic traffic of the inner city, there’s something liberating about finally being able to stretch his muscles after standing politely in the store all morning. Shouyou’s always had too much energy for his size, and being able to move on the job, weaving quickly between slower cars and pedestrians, lets him work it off while getting paid.

 

Shouyou’s last delivery of the day brings him to a small community sports center in Aoba-ku. Shouyou pedals to a stop and locks his bicycle against one of the racks by the entrance. The basket of pansies in his delivery cart still looks as fresh as it had in the morning, and Shouyou removes it carefully before he walks into the gymnasium.

Inside, Shouyou can’t see anyone who looks like they might be old enough to be sent flowers by the strange customers from that morning, but there must be a class about to start. Shouyou approaches a cluster of children practicing hitting volleyballs against the wall.

“Who are you?” The tallest boy, who is only half a head shorter than Shouyou, notices him first when he goes to chase a stray ball that rolls to a stop in front of Shouyou. Shouyou smiles as disarmingly as possible.

“I'm looking for Kageyama Tobio-san?”

“Are those flowers for him?” asks a girl with pigtails, her eyes brimming with tears as she tugs on Shouyou’s uniform to get his attention. “Does he have a lover?”

“No way!” one of the other children yells and the group falls into a heated discussion, turning their backs on Shouyou.

“They’re from a friend,” Shouyou tries to explain over the apparently intense debate over who exactly is going to marry Kageyama. “A friend who is just worried about Kageyama-san.”

“Was it Oikawa-san?” the tall boy asks, scrunching up his face. He seems like the leader and Shouyou desperately grabs onto this lifeline.

“Yes!”

“That’s okay then,” one of the other girls says, patting the tiny pigtailed girl on the head. “Oikawa-san doesn’t have a chance, right, Erika?”

Shouyou stares. “What–”

“Kageyama-san is in the office!” Erika says cheerfully, her face suddenly clearing. She points to the other side of the gymnasium and Shouyou totters off, flower basket in hand.

The office is an explosion of loose papers and half-open boxes. In the middle of the mess, seated at the desk with his head in his hands, is a boy who looks about Shouyou's age.

“Flower delivery for Kageyama Tobio-san,” Shouyou announces. The boy looks up from the battered notebook in front of him.

“What,” Kageyama says, voice laced with irritation, and Shouyou shrinks back slightly.

“Flower delivery for Kageyama Tobio-san?” Shouyou repeats, holding the basket out as far away from his body as possible. Kageyama stands up to walk toward him and Shouyou realizes just how big Kageyama is. He's not as solidly built as Asahi, but he's fit and leanly muscled. He's also limping slightly, right ankle taped up, and clearly not in a good mood. Shouyou lets Kageyama pluck the basket out of his grip with one big hand. “There's a message from the sender, too,” he adds, helpfully pointing out the card hidden among the angel's breath. Kageyama skims it quickly, brow furrowing impossibly deeper.

“I don't want this,” he says as he tries to shove the flower basket back into Shouyou's arms. “Take it back.”

“But I have to give it to you. That's my job,” Shouyou protests because he’s beginning to suspect that Kageyama is not very bright. “And that's kind of rude, someone took the time to send this to you.”

Kageyama scowls. “He's just making fun of me.”

“Maybe he's just trying to help you loosen up,” Shouyou mutters under his breath. The children from earlier seemed to adore Kageyama but Shouyou doesn't understand it at all. Kageyama seems prickly and unfriendly -- and apparently has good hearing. Shouyou tries not to quail under the force of Kageyama's glare. “I'll just leave this here,” he says, placing the basket down by the door. Shouyou flees before Kageyama can punt it at his face.

Biking back to the store, Shouyou tries to forget the scary look on Kageyama’s face. At the very least, Kageyama doesn’t seem like a flowers type of guy, which means that Shouyou won’t ever have to deal with him again.

 

❀❀❀

 

“Kids these days!” 

The door to the office opens with a bang.  Tobio grunts disapprovingly to acknowledge Coach Mizoguchi. Shaking his head, Mizoguchi does a double take when he notices the flower basket on the ground.

“Where'd this come from?” Mizoguchi asks, staring at the pansies in confusion.

“Oikawa-san sent it,” Tobio responds curtly. He's been relegated to doing paperwork at his part-time job at the neighborhood sports center for a week now after spraining his ankle and his head hurts with arithmetic and betrayal.

“I'm trusting you, Kageyama,” Mizoguchi had said very seriously before showing him the neighborhood volleyball association’s financial records. “You did well at math during high school, right?” Tobio had been too shocked at the sheer enormity of the task before him to correct him. Now, Tobio has finally managed to organize three months of payments and bills. More or less.

“Kageyama! It's my six-month anniversary with my girlfriend, so I'm leaving clean up to you,” Mizoguchi says as he grabs his jacket off the wall.

“Mizoguchi-san, when do you actually do work?” Tobio asks, dog-earing a particularly confusing page from a bank statement six months ago.

“Has anyone ever told you that you're too honest?”

Tobio pauses to think. “Oikawa-san has before,” he recalls and Mizoguchi blanches at the comparison to his former student.

“I'm going now,” he says, shouldering his bag with a shudder. “Why don't you see the kids off?” Mizoguchi holds the door open, waiting expectantly, and Tobio briefly considers not getting up out of spite but he does want to see the kids again before they go. Mizoguchi knows it, too, judging from the amused look on his face, and Tobio pretends not to see it as he walks past. The children finish putting away the nets and come running up to Tobio when they notice him at the end of the gymnasium.

“I worked on my serve today!” Hiro says over the clamor. He's the tallest out of the group of fifth-graders, despite being one of the youngest in his year. He's gangly and clumsy, but Tobio's sure that with a bit more practice he’ll be a decent player. Hiro puffs with pride when Tobio smiles approvingly at him.

“Oi, Kageyama, don't make that face. You'll give the kids nightmares!”

Tobio looks up to see Kindaichi and Kunimi waiting for him by the door with a bag of snacks and what looks suspiciously like a pack of beer.

“What are you two doing here?” Mizoguchi asks as they hastily greet him. “Come to see your old coach?”

“Kageyama never hangs out with us unless we come looking for him,” Kindaichi answers, holding up the bag of drinks meaningfully. “Also his apartment is the nicest and it’s the weekend.”

“I'm busy,” Tobio mutters, and Mizoguchi laughs at Kindaichi's chagrined expression.

“You three are all still the same, it must be nice to be young,” Mizoguchi says. “Well, this old man has to take his leave now.” He throws the gymnasium keys to Tobio and walks off with a wave.

“I still can't believe you're a teacher,” Kindaichi says when it's just the three of them alone in the room.

“I'm not a teacher,” Tobio says because he isn't, not yet anyway.  Kindaichi snorts but Tobio ignores it.  More importantly, Tobio has to take care of closing the gymnasium. “Since you're already here, help me clean up.”

“Of course, your majesty,” Kindaichi drawls sardonically and Kunimi punches his arm. “What?”  Kunimi looks pointedly at him and then at Tobio's taped ankle. “When did you start taking Kageyama's side all the time anyway?”

“We aren't kids anymore,” Kunimi says as tonelessly as usual as he follows Tobio, who has already begun walking away. “I'm not taking sides with anyone.” Frowning, Kindaichi runs after Tobio and Kunimi into the office. Tobio tries to tidy up the mess of papers as best as he can but eventually gives it up as an impossible task for the moment. He's surveying the room, trying to remember if he's forgotten anything when Kunimi stops playing games on his cell phone long enough to notice the flower basket on the floor.

“Someone sent you flowers?” Kunimi asks, a brief look of surprise flickering across his face.

“What?” Kindaichi yells as he races into the room to catch up to them. “Was it a cute girl?” Tobio looks blankly at him. Since high school Kindaichi has been convinced that Tobio has been stealing all of the girls' attention. Most of Tobio's close interactions with girls were at _goukon_ that boys in his year would occasionally invite him to at the last minute to even out their numbers. Once at the group dates though, he was mostly ignored by his classmates and the girls never actually talked to him -- they just giggled and whispered behind their hands as they occasionally looked at him. Kageyama is fairly certain that Kindaichi's ire toward him on this matter is unwarranted.

“No,” Tobio says. “Just Oikawa-san being himself.” Kindaichi somehow looks both relieved and disappointed, like he was expecting something a little more exciting. “Since you’re coming over, why don’t you make yourself useful and carry that.”

Kindaichi sputters indignantly but obeys. Satisfied, Tobio turns off the lights and air conditioning and grabs his things before leaving with Kindaichi and Kunimi.

The walk home from work isn't that far and it only takes a few minutes for Tobio to climb up the three flights of stairs to his apartment and fit the key into the lock with minimal effort. Tobio's apartment may be small but the rent is cheap enough for him to afford on his own. Tobio has no illusions about his ability to make friends and the privacy is a definite bonus, even if Kindaichi sometimes seems to treat the apartment as his own personal  _izakaya_.

Flicking the light switch in the foyer, Tobio kicks off his shoes and lets Kindaichi and Kunimi follow him in. They enter with a perfunctory mumbled greeting and head into the living room with their bags while Tobio grabs three sets of plates and chopsticks from the kitchen. Kunimi and Kindaichi have already settled down by the low dining table and turned on the small TV to the sports channel when Tobio sits down with them and passes out the tableware. There’s a minor league volleyball match on, just a few minutes into the third set, and they eat relatively quietly save for a few comments about the game.

Kunimi's eyes gaze slides to the flower basket again when the match ends three sets to none. “How is Oikawa-san?” he asks. Tobio shrugs.

“I haven't actually seen Oikawa-san lately. He should be busy now that he's been made a starting player.”

“Along with Ushijima, huh?” Kindaichi says. “He used to hate that Ushijima so much and now they're on the same team.”

“Iwaizumi-san says that they're getting along,” Tobio says. Although Iwaizumi hadn't said how he had managed this, Tobio has his suspicions that it involved Iwaizumi's fist and Oikawa's face. Kunimi seems to be thinking the same thing judging from his slight smirk.

“I always wondered,” Kindaichi says, slurring slightly as he leans back on his arms and looks straight across the table at Tobio. “Didn't you get any offers?”

Tobio shrugs again. Once Ushijima had graduated from Shiratorizawa, Seijou had been on fairly even footing with their main rival. After Tobio had led Seijou to victory against Shiratorizawa at the prefectural finals, minor league recruiters had flocked toward him, but going to nationals had been enough for Tobio. “I didn't accept them.”

“I really don't understand you,” Kindaichi says, sprawling out onto the floor. His long arms nearly hit Kunimi, who kicks them away without much force. There’s something so easy about their friendship, even though Kindaichi is noisy enough for the both of them, and Tobio finds himself wondering again how he came to be a part of this.

“Hey, you’re thinking something weird again, aren’t you?” Kindaichi asks, peering up over the edge of table to grab his half-empty bottle of beer. “Man, if only I’d known you were such an introverted brat, I wouldn’t have been so afraid of you in middle school.”

“Too loud,” Kunimi says, kicking Kindaichi less gently than before and glancing at Tobio. Tobio pretends not to notice, getting up to clear away the dishes and trash. When he returns to the living room Kunimi has switched off the television and is pulling a sleepy Kindaichi to his feet.

“You’re leaving?” Tobio asks.

“I think it’s time we headed back to the dorms,” Kunimi says, adjusting Kindaichi’s weight. “Thanks for having us over.”

Tobio sees them out to the front door and latches it after them. It’s almost unnervingly quiet without Kindaichi’s loud outbursts or even Kunimi’s murmured deadpan in the background, just the indistinct murmur of an evening drama from his neighbor’s apartment. Tobio’s leg twinges, not particularly painfully, but he gets ready for bed slowly and carefully settles into bed. It’s only a minor sprain, and nearly all healed since Tobio has been resting per doctor’s orders, but his blood thrums with a restless, unsettled energy. It’s hard to fall asleep in this humidity, and Tobio visualizes a ball before him -- the rise and fall of it as if he were tossing it straight above his chest like he would in high school, homework done for the night and only the singular thought of volleyball on his mind -- until he slips into unconsciousness.

 

❀❀❀

 

The sun beats down on Shouyou the following Thursday, when he has the morning shift again. Today Asahi is in, taking care to hide in the backroom while less physically imposing employees stand out in the front where customers can see.

“That's for the phone order that just came in,” Asahi says, pointing to the bouquet waiting in a bucket by the service door. “The caller paid for a rush delivery.”

Shouyou looks over the receipt and groans. “He didn't even bother to come in person today.”

“Is something wrong?” Asahi already looks on the verge of a breakdown, having spent the hour going through the past month’s financial books, so Shouyou curbs his frustration, sighing.

“No,” Shouyou sighs. “It's just the fifth time this week that I've had to deliver flowers to Kageyama Tobio and he’s always really scary.”

Asahi’s eyes widen anxiously, and Shouyou pats him on comfortingly on the back before heading out with the bouquet in one hand and his helmet in the other.

Shouyou’s sister had decided to bike to school that day so he takes Asahi’s old bike that they keep stored in the backroom. The delivery directions are as elaborately detailed as they have been every time since Oikawa’s first inauspicious visit to the Azumane Family Florists. Shouyou arrives five minutes early at the corner coffee shop specified. He feels out of place in his uniform, green apron flapping as he kicks out his bike stand and dismounts. A group of college girls pass by, giggling at the giant bouquet in his hands, but Shouyou doesn’t pay any attention to them. He sees a familiar figure approaching in the distance and he straightens with purpose.

“Delivery for Kageyama-san,” Shouyou yells when Kageyama is only a few meters away. Kageyama looks up with weary acceptance.

“Don’t shout,” he hisses, eyes darting left and right at the people passing by and snatching the bouquet from Shouyou. “I’m not going to ignore you this time.”

“Last time you made me chase you around the block. Twice.” Kageyama had pretended to not to see Shouyou, walking determinedly past while Shouyou had slowly trailed after him. Eventually Shouyou had to threaten to throw the basket at the back of Kageyama’s head and then dropped it at his shocked feet before hightailing it out of there. Judging from the look in Kageyama’s eyes, he hasn’t forgotten about that either. Maybe Shouyou shouldn’t have reminded him. He laughs nervously. “It’s a bouquet of irises this time.”

Kageyama grabs the flowers roughly from Shouyou’s out-stretched hand and stalks off.  It’s a distinct improvement from their last encounters so Shouyou takes that as a win. Still, he sends a fervent prayer to the heavens as he pedals back to the store that Kageyama’s leg will quickly heal so that Oikawa can stop sending flowers.

 

Shouyou’s good mood lasts until the evening, well after his shift at the flower shop is over. Tanaka had called suddenly about one of his sister’s friends who needed help moving stuff to a new apartment, and Shouyou had been able to earn a bit of cash. Combined with the money he’s saved from other odd jobs throughout the month, he’s made enough to send Natsu on her class field trip. Natsu doesn’t complain about her lack of spending money most of the time, but Shouyou knows his little sister has a thirst for adventure similar to his own. 

Thinking of school, Shouyou feels a wave of nostalgia washing over him. Instead of heading straight home, he decides to swing by his old school. The gates to Karasuno High School are already closed at this hour, but it’s enough to see it from a distance, the home of so many of his childish and innocent dreams.

The bus stop is at the bottom of the hill and Shouyou jogs down again, skidding to a stop as he passes by the old Sakanoshita Shop. Natsu has probably left him something for dinner when he gets home but Shouyou is hungry enough that a couple of meat buns sound worth the price.

“Here, too?” Kageyama asks, incredulous, when Shouyou steps out again with his bag of snacks and walks straight into his chest. Shouyou jumps backwards into a defensive crouch.

“I'm not stalking you, I promise!” Shouyou yelps, panicked. Kageyama looks just as surprised by Shouyou's outburst and he freezes.

“The two of you over there -- if you're going to cause trouble, get out!” the shopkeeper yells from behind the counter.

“Come on!” Shouyou tugs on Kageyama's sleeve. “We better leave! Ukai-san doesn't joke around.”

The days might be getting longer, but the sky is already dark, with grey clouds forming overhead as they exit the shop. A warm droplet of rain lands on the tip of Shouyou's nose, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Kageyama flinch, brow furrowed at the heavens.

“Looks like it's gonna start pouring any minute now,” Shouyou observes around a mouthful of food. Kageyama lets out a quiet grunt in response but his anger seems directed safely away from Shouyou for now. “I know somewhere close by where we can wait out the rain, if you want?” Shouyou lets the question hang. Kageyama looks skeptical but nods jerkily when the rain starts picking up in earnest.

There is a park around the corner that Shouyou biked past every day during high school. He leads Kageyama to the small sheltered picnic table by the playground and falls onto one of the benches in an exhilarated heap, taking up the entire bench. Kageyama wipes the water off his face with his sleeve and shoots Shouyou a look of disbelief. He doesn't look so intimidating with his hair messy and wet -- less sharp -- and Shouyou can’t help laughing.

“Oi, move over,” Kageyama growls, face red. Shouyou scoots away reflexively but Kageyama sits down next to him and closes his eyes, tilting his head back and stretching his legs out. Shouyou sneaks a peek at him.

“I’ve never seen you around here,” Shouyou comments. “Did you just move into the neighborhood?”

“I've always lived nearby,” Kageyama says, disgruntled. He looks down at Shouyou. “You seemed pretty familiar with the shopkeeper. Do you also live around here?”

“Oh, I live across the mountains,” Shouyou answers, brightly. “But I used to go there all the time during high school. After practice the whole team would get snacks together and Ukai-san always nagged us to eat properly.”

“Team?”

“I was on the volleyball team,” Shouyou says, looking down at his bag to pack away the last meat bun into a side pocket.

“Me, too,” Kageyama says, surprised. “I played setter for Aoba Jousai.”

“I remember, Seijou went to nationals when I was in my third year,” Shouyou says, sneaking a glance at Kageyama. “I was at Karasuno. We never played each other though, so you probably don't remember us.”

“No,” Kageyama says slowly. “We watched Karasuno play Datekou once. There was a fast little guy who could jump.”

“You remember that?” Shouyou says, sitting up with excitement. “That was me!  Hinata Shouyou, number 10!”

“Do you still play?”

“Not really,” Shouyou says, startled.  “I don't have a lot of free time right now, and I...” Shouyou's voice fades as he notices the intensity of Kageyama's gaze focused on him and looks away. “The rain’s stopped!”

Kageyama looks up, mouth opening like he’s about to speak again, and Shouyou jumps out from the shelter into the dimly lit sunset. “I have to get going now,” he says before Kageyama can talk and Kageyama’s jaw clicks shut. “It was nice playing with you, Kageyama!”

It’s probably rude to leave Kageyama so suddenly, even if they hadn’t really planned to meet like this, but Shouyou doesn’t want to deal with Kageyama’s piercing gaze. It’s been a couple of years since Shouyou graduated high school and he knows that he doesn’t have much to show for it. Still, it’s not fair of the world to expect him to have answers for Kageyama when he’s barely managed any for himself.

 

❀❀❀

 

Tobio wakes up early the next morning, gingerly testing his weight on his injured leg as he gets out of bed. His ankle doesn’t feel sore at all even though he had let himself get carried away yesterday, and he feels a glimmer of hope. He has a doctor’s appointment later that day, which means he might get cleared officially if he’s still feeling well then.

The weather has cooled down again after last night’s rain, and Tobio decides he should probably take advantage of the nice weather to clean. His apartment hasn’t become too messy since the last time that Kindaichi and Kunimi came over, but his living room is overflowing with all the flowers that Oikawa has sent him this week. Tobio may not know much about plants, but he can water them at least. After all, it isn’t the flowers’ fault that Oikawa decided to bombard Tobio with them using Japan’s most persistent delivery boy.

He still has the flowers at the back of his mind while he’s sitting in the waiting room for his follow-up at the school clinic.

“Everything looks in order,” Dr. Harada says after she examines him. “No pain, you said?”

“I walked on it a lot the past few days,” Tobio admits to her. She clucks her tongue at him like she’s scolding a pet or a small child and his shoulders tighten sullenly. “It didn’t hurt at all.”

“Be more careful next time.” She finalizes her comments and presses ‘print’. “And listen to me when I tell you to rest.”

“It was important,” Tobio says, defensively. Dr. Harada rolls her eyes and closes his file.

“Like I’ve never heard that one before,” she says dryly, waving him off. “Don’t forget to talk to the receptionist on your way out!”

Tobio signs the last of his paperwork just in time to get to Mizoguchi’s gymnasium for the fourth and fifth graders’ class. Eventually he’ll need to report back to his school club’s manager, but it’s the off season and summer vacation has just started anyway. Tobio feels comfortable with his life just as it is now , helping kids like Hiro learn how to move their bodies with the ball.

Erika has already begun pouting in the corner when class starts, and Tobio takes the lead.

“Is there something wrong?” Tobio asks, kneeling down until he’s eye level with Erika. The other kids in the class don’t stop their warm-up, shoes continuing to squeak against the slippery floor, but Tobio knows that they’re listening attentively.

“I saw Oikawa-san in the office and Mizoguchi-sensei always invites him to stay for practice.” They both look toward the office where Oikawa is, in fact, talking to Mizoguchi. Erika’s chubby face scrunches up further and Tobio pats her gently on the head.

“Oikawa-san is a very good volleyball player, despite his personality,” Tobio tells her seriously. “He probably has a lot to teach and you should use him to your greatest benefit.”

Erika and the other students seem to contemplate his words deeply and Tobio stands, satisfied.

“Hey, Tobio-chan!” Oikawa and Mizoguchi jog to the center of the court to join him as he oversees their warm-up exercises.

“Since we have a professional with us today,” Mizoguchi says, shifting into work mode, “I thought we could divide up into smaller groups for drills.”

Oikawa readily agrees, and Tobio helps Mizoguchi split the students, sending the stronger students to line up by Oikawa and keeping the weaker students with them to work on their receives. They take a short break halfway through class, when they’ve planned to switch groups, and Oikawa drapes himself over Tobio.

“You’re moving well today,” Oikawa observes. “Are you all better now?”

“Yes,” Tobio says with heavy emphasis  “You can stop sending me flowers now. Especially to the gym. It’s distracting for the students.” Tobio looks meaningfully at where the children are huddled together with their water bottles, glaring daggers at Oikawa.

“Tobio-chan, they all hate me,” Oikawa whines and clings harder. “What did you do to them?”

Tobio snorts. “I didn’t do anything to them.”

“It can’t be because of anything I’ve done,” reasons Oikawa. “Most children like me.”

“Maybe these kids are smarter?” Tobio suggests.

“Why?  Because you’re teaching them?” Oikawa asks, snide. He yelps as Tobio shakes him off unceremoniously when Mizoguchi announces the end of their water break.

The rest of the class passes uneventfully, and Tobio returns to the floral excess of his apartment. The flowers look fuller since he watered them this morning, and Tobio stares at them with a mix of irritation and wonder.

 _where do you buy your flowers from_ , he messages Oikawa without any preamble. His phone buzzes two minutes later with an incoming message.

            _if it isn't my cute tobio-chan~  
__why would he need to know something like that, i wonder????_

                        _because i need to buy flowers_

            _for who??!!!???_

                        _not for oikawa-san_

Tobio's phone starts ringing immediately. It’s Oikawa, of course, so Tobio answers dutifully. He knows from experience that Oikawa has a habit of calling until he picks up.

“Check the cards I sent you.” Oikawa yawns obnoxiously and Tobio nearly hangs up on him. “I think the name of the store is written somewhere on there.

“I threw them away,” Tobio says and Oikawa squawks with indignation.

“So not cute,” he says. Tobio makes a noncommittal noise. “What will you give me if I tell you?” Oikawa asks, voice lilting suggestively. Immediately, Tobio hears a loud thumping noise and a muffled roar in the background. “Wait, Iwa-chan, stop – I’m on the phone with Tobio-chan!” More roaring. Tobio waits for Iwaizumi’s rage to pass.

“I'll look it up and let you know,” Oikawa says sulkily when he finally comes back a minute later.

“Thank you,” Tobio says. “Good luck on your game tomorrow, Oikawa-san.” He hangs up before he can hear Oikawa's reply and settles deeper into his bed.

 

The Azumane Family Florists’ shop is smaller than Tobio thought it would be, considering Oikawa’s extravagant tastes. The bell on the door rings as Tobio enters, breaking the early morning calm. It's almost enough to make Tobio turn back but the person at the counter has already spotted him _SUGAWARA_ the name tag pinned on the familiar green apron reads in neat, blocky letters.

“May I help you?” Sugawara asks. Tobio jerks his head in a reluctant nod and Sugawara coughs discreetly. “Is this for someone special?”

Tobio’s eyes widen, horrified, as he’s suddenly hit with the image of big brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “No,” he manages to choke out. “There’s no one. Nothing.” Sugawara makes a soothing noise and smiles serenely at him.

“Then maybe one of our popular items?” Sugawara pulls out a thin green binder from behind the counter and flips through the laminated sheets to point to a page of various flowers. Tobio gulps and points at random to something familiar.

“Red roses?” Sugawara says, eyebrows raised. Tobio realizes belatedly their more romantic connotations and he jerkily shakes his head. Sugawara flips the page over and shows it to Tobio again. “How about the carnations? They’re also a popular alternative.”

“Sure,” Tobio says, ready for this to be over. Sugawara rings up his purchase and laughs when Kageyama pulls out his credit card.

“Kageyama Tobio-san,” Sugawara laughs. “Have you been receiving an unusual amount of flowers recently by any chance?” Tobio colors and Sugawara apparently takes that as sufficient confirmation. “You’ve become rather infamous. Our delivery boy Hinata mentions you a lot.”

Tobio leaves the flower shop with a bouquet of red carnations in hand and a fierce blush to match.

 

❀❀❀

 

Shouyou sprints into the store for his shift that afternoon. He’s a few minutes early and Sugawara claps at his entrance. Sugawara has been working all day and looks ready to take a break from manning the front register once Shouyou has managed to flatten his hair into something more acceptable than his bedhead.

Shouyou is tidying the receipts from earlier that morning when he notices the slip with Kageyama Tobio, 12 red carnations, ¥1.500 printed on it.

“Kageyama?” Shouyou reads aloud, surprised.

“He's your regular, isn’t he?”

“You're making it sound weird,” Shouyou whines. “Kageyama isn't the one ordering flowers anyway, that's the other weird guy.” He looks down at the invoice again. “Kageyama hasn’t actually bought flowers from us before.”

Sugawara hums thoughtfully. “Maybe he has someone he likes now? He seemed a little shy.” Shouyou chokes.  It's hard for him to imagine Kageyama, with his perpetual glare, being sweet or romantic with anybody, and _shy_ definitely isn't the word he'd use. “Are you two friends?” Sugawara asks, looking curiously at Shouyou.

“No way!” Shouyou says, shaking his head vigorously. “We barely know each other, and he’s always got his face like this when we meet.” Shouyou draws his eyebrows together in a frown and Sugawara laughs.

“That’s too bad. It always sounds like you get along well together.” Shouyou’s eyes widen with shock, but before he can respond to Sugawara’s obviously mistaken perceptions of Kageyama Tobio, the phone rings and Sugawara has already gone to answer it.

“That was just Asahi asking what time dinner is at,” Sugawara says to Shouyou after hanging up. Shouyou blinks blankly and Sugawara flicks his forehead gently. “Did you forget?  Don’t go running home after closing tonight.”

“I won’t,” Shouyou promises. He’s been so distracted lately with work, especially with all those extra deliveries to Kageyama, who hasn’t been the most agreeable customer that Shouyou has met. Although, to be fair, even he hadn’t been so bad when Shouyou hadn’t been chasing him down with flowers. Whenever Shouyou played tall guys like Kageyama, they usually laughed at his love for volleyball. Kageyama had taken him seriously, eyes clear of any judgment.

“Maybe he’s just bad at making friends,” Shouyou wonders aloud.

“Sorry?” Sugawara asks.

“Ah, nothing!” Shouyou scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “I was just talking to myself.” He hurriedly goes back to his work. He’s already spent too much time thinking about Kageyama today.

 

The old Karasuno volleyball team has monthly reunions at a traditional style Japanese restaurant near the school where they used to eat after big tournaments or on special occasions. Most of their friends are already seated when Shouyou and Sugawara arrive. Sugawara sits down next to Daichi and Shouyou squeezes in between Nishinoya and Tanaka.

“We’re just waiting for Shimizu-san and Ennoshita-san,” Yachi tells Shouyou. “Tsukishima-kun and Yamaguchi-kun are too busy again to come.”

Shouyou is the only player from his year to come regularly to these monthly dinners, but he doesn’t mind. Tsukishima has a way of irritating Shouyou, acting like he’s so much better than everyone else. Besides, it means that Shouyou can spend more time with their upperclassmen by himself.

“Shimizu-san!” Yachi calls out from their table when she sees the other girl approaching their table at the back of the restaurant. “Congratulations! I knew all your hard work would pay off.”

Shimizu beams at Yachi, thanking her, and Shouyou quickly turns to Tanaka.

“Did something good happen to Shimizu-san?” he asks. Tanaka sighs beatifically.

“Kiyoko-san just got a new job at some big-name company,” Nishinoya explains, coming up behind them to join Tanaka in admiring Shimizu.

“Ah, that’s great!” Shouyou waves enthusiastically at Shimizu from across the table. “Congratulations, Shimizu-san!” Shimizu smiles at Shouyou, tucking her hair behind her ear. Tanaka and Nishinoya fall into raptures around Shouyou and she starts blushing.

Tanaka and Nishinoya’s excessive fawning is thankfully cut short when Ennoshita arrives and rests a heavy hand on each of their heads so that the waitress can set the table in relative calm.

“Eat up,” Asahi tells Shouyou, passing him one of the large platters of chicken. Shouyou takes it eagerly, digging in.

“Oi, Hinata!  Leave some food for the rest of us!”

Tanaka’s shout carries throughout the restaurant and Daichi barks out a warning. It’s easy to settle into this familiar dynamic, and Shouyou feels warm and full at the end of the meal.

 

❀❀❀

 

Tobio is on his way to the convenience store for a late snack when he hears his name being called out in the street.

“Kageyama?” Tobio turns to see the flower shop delivery boy -- Hinata – skipping towards him. “It’s me, Karasuno’s Number 10!”

“I know.”

Hinata breaks out into a large, goofy grin just like he did the first time Tobio recognized him. Now, though, Hinata’s cheeks are flushed a dusty pink and Tobio realizes he must be a bit tipsy.

“Hinata, don’t run off like that!” Hinata’s light-haired co-worker comes up behind Hinata, grabbing onto Hinata and pulling him back. “I’m so sorry about that,” Sugawara says, bowing half-way before recognizing Kageyama and letting go of Hinata with a surprised, “oh!”

“Look, I found Kageyama!” Hinata says belatedly. Tobio wonders what Hinata has said about him because Sugawara’s eyes light up.

“Would you like to join us?” Sugawara asks. He points to the group of people milling about the entrance of the restaurant behind him. “We were just going drinking with some other friends.”

Tobio hesitates and Hinata butts in again. “Yeah, you can tell us about those flowers you bought.” Hinata sidles close to nudge Tobio with his elbow. “There were a lot of pretty girls around your university’s campus, were you sending flowers to one of them?”

Tobio scowls, pushing Hinata away. “If it’s fine with everyone else,” he tells Sugawara as politely as he can. Sugawara pulls a distracted Hinata along as he introduces Kageyama to the rest of their friends.

“Kageyama?” Sawamura looks surprised. “That name sounds familiar.”

“I played for Seijou's volleyball team,” Tobio says.

“An elite,” Tanaka roars, and Sawamura places himself solidly between the two of them.

“Sorry, Kageyama-san, we apologize on his behalf,” Sugawara says, pushing Tanaka’s head down and forcing him into a bow.

Tobio fidgets. “Please just call me Kageyama,” he says. The others seem to approve of Tobio’s familiarity because Tanaka’s face clears just as quickly and the short boy with a blond streak in his hair claps Tobio on the back.

 

An hour later, Tobio isn’t sure whether he regrets his decision or not. He’s managed to retreat into the corner of their room, away from the rowdier Karasuno alumni. Sugawara approaches him with a bottle in hand. 

“What does a Seijou elite think of Karasuno’s fallen crows?” Sugawara asks, winking.

“You all seem very spirited,” Tobio answers honestly. “You must have made a very good team.”

“We’re a wild bunch, but we do get along well.” Sugawara fondly watches his former teammates’ antics. Tanaka is lifting Nishinoya into the air while Azumane hovers with concern.

“I finally understand Hinata’s constant energy level now,” Tobio remarks as he watches Hinata egg on Tanaka and Nishonya. Sugawara laughs.

“Don't you think Hinata is cute?” Sugawara asks, refilling Tobio's glass. Startled, Tobio tenses, arms held out with his cup in his hands.

“He's like a small animal,” Tobio answers, before carefully taking a sip. “Like a pet dog or a cat.” Tanaka and Nishinoya ordered the last round and Tobio isn't entirely sure that he trusts those two.

“But pets are usually pretty cute, aren't they?”

Tobio sputters, eyes watering. “I don't know. Animals don't like me.” He studiously looks down into his drink. Whatever it is that the two ordered, it's strong and it settles in his stomach with uncomfortable heat.

Sugawara smiles slyly, gaze slanting sideways to where Hinata is jumping up and down with Nishinoya. “That doesn't mean you can't find them cute.”

“That seems selfish.” The words spill out of Tobio's mouth, unbidden, and he flushes. “I don't want to force my feelings onto anyone.”

Sugawara blinks and then starts smiling again, wider than before. “Kageyama-kun is surprisingly serious.”

Tobio’s mouth feels dry and he chugs the rest of his glass too quickly, falling into a coughing fit. This draws the others’ attentions to their side of the table.

“What are you two talking about over there?” Tanaka demands. Hinata is looking at Tobio with his head cocked in curiosity and Tobio averts his gaze. Thankfully, Sugawara expertly distracts them by asking about the one-sided drinking contest that Nishinoya and Tanaka have challenged the rest of the table to.

 

It’s past one a.m. when Tanaka and Nishinoya finally concede defeat to Sawamura. Hinata also looks like he's drunk far too much, hanging off of Nishinoya and singing enthusiastically along to some recent pop song as everyone makes their final goodbyes outside the bar. Nishinoya jumps up a little too exuberantly at the chorus and Hinata staggers into Sugawara, who gently steadies him. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Tobio asks, concerned despite himself.

“Hinata needs to take the bus home,” Sugawara says, brow furrowed in concern. “Why don't you accompany him to the bus stop?”

“Suga, don't meddle.” Sawamura tugs on Sugawara's arm, but Sugawara smiles cheekily at him and he lets go with a reluctant smile.

“I can take care of Hinata,” Tobio says, accepting Hinata's weight as Sugawara gently guides Hinata into his arms. Hinata whines at the sudden shift in his balance, a small pathetic sound that makes Tanaka and Nishinoya burst out in laughter.

“You better be careful with that one,” Tanaka cackles as Sawamura and Sugawara pull him away with them by the collar of his shirt. “He has a delicate stomach!”

Tobio eyes Hinata suspiciously as he helps him stagger across the street and slump onto the bench at the bus stop. Tobio stands in front of Hinata, who leans forward to rest against him. “Oi, don't puke on me,” he warns. Hinata whimpers pathetically and buries his face into Tobio’s hip.

Hinata is a warm weight on Tobio’s side that Tobio finds himself unwilling to give up even when the bus comes. “We’re getting on now,” he mutters to Hinata, shaking his shoulders. Hinata cracks one eye open and then the other as he lets Tobio propel his body forward.

“Which stop?” Tobio asks when they’re finally seated in an acceptable fashion, his arm wrapped around Hinata’s shoulder to keep him upright. Hinata turns his head so he can mumble into Tobio’s ear before his whole body jerks with the motion of the bus and his head lolls down onto Tobio’s shoulder. Tobio’s face goes hot and Tobio tries to keep his attention on the actual answer rather than the feeling of Hinata’s breath puffing against his ear. It should be disgusting, warm and rank with the smell of alcohol, but mostly Tobio wants to slip his hand into the messy tufts of Hinata’s hair.

Hinata is still tipsy when they finally arrive at his bus stop, although he manages to stumble off the bus on his own feet. Tobio hovers in the background as Hinata steadies himself.

“I can walk home from here,” Hinata says. His voice is weaker than usual which Tobio takes to mean that he’s not yet fully recovered from the alcohol in his system. “The stop for the in-bound bus is over there.”

Hinata sways gently, pointing down the road. Tobio shoves his hands into his pockets as he lingers.

“If you ever want to play volleyball,” Tobio says, stilted and awkward, “you should come to my gym. I have access to the key, so.”

Hinata stares, blinking owlishly at him. “You want to toss for me?”

He looks strangely open and vulnerable, the light from the street lamps reflecting off his wide eyes. Tobio swallows and straightens his shoulders.

“Give me your phone,” he orders. Hinata obeys, dazedly, and Tobio adds himself to Hinata’s contacts before handing back Hinata’s cell phone. “Here. So you can email me.”

Hinata takes his phone back, pocketing it with bemusement. “Thanks?”

“Get home safely,” Tobio says, brusque.

“See ya,” Hinata calls out, swinging around and heading toward a cluster of low-roofed houses. It’s enough to reassure Tobio and he finally goes.

 

❀❀❀

 

Shouyou wakes the next morning to August sunlight streaming on his face and a heavy weight plopping down next to him on his mattress.

“Nii-chan,” his sister says, pulling Shouyou’s blanket off of him and shaking him awake, “get up! You’re supposed to take me to the train station today!”

Groaning, Shouyou bats her hand away and gets up to go to the bathroom. He looks like a mess in the mirror, hair sticking out in every direction and dried drool trailing down from the corner of his mouth. Hopefully he didn’t drunkenly sing in the streets like he did the last time he went drinking with Nishinoya but his memory of what happened after dinner is hazy and fragmented.

Kageyama had been there, Shouyou remembers suddenly, and nearly slips on the bathroom tiles. Kageyama had taken him home and let him burrow into his side, snuffling sleepily as the bus had shaken along the uneven mountain road.

Stomach churning, Shouyou tries not to think too much about the bus -- or about Kageyama.

“Mom made breakfast before she left for work,” Natsu says, pointing to the covered tray on the dining table. Shouyou eagerly digs in and Natsu sits down across from him with a reference book.

“Are you all packed?” he asks, swallowing a mouthful of rice, and she scoffs.

“I’m not like you,” Natsu says loftily, with all the confidence of a teenager. “I’ve been ready to leave since yesterday.” 

Shouyou ruffles her hair as he puts his dishes away in the sink, and she pouts.

 

The train station is busy with people heading out for trips on the weekend, now that the summer vacation season has begun. Shouyou carries Natsu’s bag for her as she skips alongside him, looking around for her schoolmates on the platform.

“Natsu-chan!  Over here!” her friends call out. Natsu waves at them and Shouyou passes her bag to her.

“Have fun,” he tells her and she hugs him tightly.

“Thanks for being a good brother,” Natsu says, hugging him tightly. Her eyes are squeezed shut and Shouyou pokes her cheek.

“Look at this middle schooler already getting homesick,” he teases and she lets go, hitting his arm.

“Don’t be mean,” she says. “I’m trying to be serious.”

“I guess I’ll listen to this girl who’s only third in her year,” Shouyou says. Natsu flushes and Shouyou feels a wave of pride washing over him.

“That’s right, you should listen to me Mr. Always Last In His Class!” Natsu says, tartly. Her eyes soften though and she looks down at her feet as she continues talking. “I know how hard you’ve worked because of me. But I’m going to be able to take care of myself in a few years and I can still depend on mom.” She bites her lip. “And you can depend on us, sometimes, so you should start doing things for yourself, too.”

Shouyou pats the top of her head. “I know,” he says. Natsu looks at him searchingly and whatever she sees must satisfy her. She gives him one last hug before she runs off to meet her friends. Shouyou waits to see her train depart before finally leaving for work.

 

The Azumane Family Florists’ shop is busy now that local preparations for Tanabata are beginning and the store has a flood of orders coming in. Shouyou and Sugawara are in the backroom, knee-deep in flowers, ribbons, and strips of colored paper.

“Shimizu-san was taking night classes before she got hired, right?” Shouyou asks suddenly. He’s been quiet all day and Sugawara looks up, startled.

“Yes, I think so.”

“I was just thinking that maybe I should take some classes, too.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Sugawara agrees. Shouyou feels the nervousness in his stomach melt away. Sugawara always knows the right words to say to lift Shouyou’s mood. “Do you want me to ask her about them for you?”

“Thank you!” Shouyou says. Sugawara leans back to look thoughtfully at him.

“Sometimes in high school, you would get this hungry look on your face during matches,” Sugawara says after a minute. “The seniors always felt sorry that we couldn’t do more for you during those times.” Shouyou tries to protest that he’s always admired the upperclassmen but Sugawara continues over him. “You shine too brightly to be stuck here forever.”

Shouyou tugs at the petals of a damaged flower, unsure of how to respond.

"Ah, are you playing a game?" Sugawara asks, switching deftly to a more lighthearted topic. "Likes me, likes me not!" Shouyou drops the flower quickly into the trash can for rejected flowers, blushing. Thankfully, the bell on the front door rings just then and he stands up quickly.

"I’ll go help Asahi-san, now!” he says.

For once, the customer is mostly oblivious to Asahi’s scruffy appearance. Asahi cowers behind the cash register alone as Kageyama examines the flowers in the room with a look of intent concentration.

“You’re back!” Shouyou says, surprised, and Kageyama looks up. Asahi takes advantage of the distraction to retreat behind an exceptionally large vase in the far corner of the room and Shouyou laughs nervously. Nothing really happened with Kageyama the night before, but he still feels vaguely embarrassed. “I would have thought you’d be sick of flowers now.”

“Flowers are… nice,” Kageyama says. It’s not particularly convincing, but Shouyou decides not to question it.

“Sunflowers are always good during summer,” Shouyou suggests. Kageyama nods decisively and Shouyou’s breath hitches as he begins ringing him up for a one small bouquet of sunflowers.

“That sounds good,” he says.

“The Tanabata festival,” Kageyama says suddenly and Shouyou glances up briefly from his nemesis the cash register. Kageyama is looking at the stack of posters that the city council had sent to the store to help advertise. “Are you busy?”

“Yep!” Shouyou thinks he’s finally prodded the cash register into submission. “The store is always busy around festival season.”

“I meant did you have plans on that night?”

Shouyou nods. “Tanaka-san's sister is performing with her troupe so we’re all going to the festival together to watch,” he explains. Kageyama looks dissatisfied by that answer and Shouyou plucks up his courage. “You should come with us!”

“Alright,” Kageyama says, accepting the sunflower bouquet from Shouyou.

“Also, about playing volleyball with you.” Shouyou looks down on his feet. “Is it really okay?” Kageyama makes a low noise of assent.

“On Tuesdays I only work in the morning.”

“That’s fine,” Kageyama says. His cheeks are tinged pink. “You can come in the afternoon.”

Asahi peeks out from his hiding place as Kageyama leaves with his sunflowers. Shouyou very studiously does not look at his face.

 

❀❀❀

 

It’s not particularly out of the ordinary when Tobio requests use of the gymnasium for the afternoon. Mizoguchi is surprised, though, when Tobio asks him to leave early.

“You can work on these at home,” Tobio says, stacking the tax books and financial ledgers in Mizoguchi’s arms.

“What’s going on?” Mizoguchi’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “Are you doing something illegal?” he asks, as Tobio pushes him out of the office and turns him toward the exit of the health center. “Do you have a date? Here at the gym?”

Tobio throws his jacket at his face.

“That’s a pretty shabby date!” Mizoguchi yells from outside, and Tobio slams the door after him.

 

“This is a nice gym,” Hinata says when he arrives, looking around the building properly for the first time.

“My coach from high school bought it out and renovated the courts,” Tobio explains, pulling the cart of volleyballs out from the storage room.

They warm up with some passing drills.  Hinata’s receives are average at best, but Tobio remembers the Karasuno-Datekou match from his first Inter-High. Datekou had won two sets to one, faltering in the second set before striking back as expected. At the time, Tobio had been more focused on finding weaknesses in Datekou’s “Iron Wall,” but he was as stunned as everyone else watching the game when Karasuno’s number 10 had managed to score several points through sheer speed alone.

Tobio switches up the location of his tosses, but Hinata runs after every ball, sending it back each time.

“Let me spike!” Hinata yells. “You’re a setter, right?”

It throws off Tobio’s rhythm and he finds himself getting into position too quickly. He’s ready to apologize but stops short, speechless. Hinata has sprinted forward, arms thrown back as he pushes off and jumps into the air. His hand comes down onto the ball with a resounding smack.

Tobio stares as the ball sails over the net.

“That was fun!” Hinata says when he lands on his feet.  “Let’s do it again!”

“Yeah,” Tobio says weakly.  “You… what kind of plays did you do at Karasuno?”

“Suga-san and I used to do quick plays,” Hinata answers, oblivious to Tobio’s current shock. “But after he graduated we didn’t really have a setter, so one of the underclassmen had to pick it up.” Tobio gapes at Hinata, who finally looks down wonderingly at his reddened palm. “Even with Suga-san it never felt like this.”

“We’re going to do that again,” Tobio says determinedly. Hinata perks up and Tobio points to a spot further away from the net. “Start over there and go as fast you can to your highest point.”

They miss the timing on their second and third tries and Tobio stares at the net, trying to recapture the moment. Hinata is so different from anyone he’s ever played with, but Tobio gradually adjusts to his motion – his unbelievable height and spring, his reckless speed. Two hours later, they’ve reached about a 50% success rate and Hinata collapses to the ground, tired from jumping non-stop. Tobio follows suit, mentally exhausted from concentrating so intensely on so many variables on the court. Lying on the ground, side by side, their breathing slowly evens and falls into sync.

“They called you the King of the Court when we were in school,” Hinata says out of the blue, surprising Tobio.

“Don’t call me that,” Tobio says, more out of habit than actual anger. The nickname may have lost most of its meaning now but he still hates hearing it from anyone other than Kunimi, who rarely uses it anymore, or Kindaichi. Tobio knows he owes them that much but sometimes it still stings, the memory of his final year in middle school and the empty spot mocking him from behind. There’s no way Hinata could know about that though so Tobio lets Hinata continue talking.

“Why didn’t you continue playing volleyball?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re good. Really, really good.”  Hinata stares resolutely at the ceiling. “Good enough to go pro if you wanted.”

Tobio closes his eyes. “I guess I didn’t want to then,” he says blandly and Hinata snorts.

“Don’t try to sound cool by yourself. Besides,” Hinata says, finally looking at Tobio, “you really do love volleyball.”

“What about you then?” Hinata looks lost at that, and Tobio turns to his side to look directly at him. “You love volleyball, too.” Tobio can see it in the lines of Hinata’s form when he jumps, the light in his eyes when he asks for a toss. “Why did you stop?”

“I already told you,” Hinata says, unusually quiet.

“Only the strong stay on the court,” Tobio says, nodding, and Hinata’s eyes widen with something like hurt. “But there are lots of different courts and each one requires a different kind of strength. This is the court I chose to stand on.” Hinata’s gaze travels past Tobio’s face to the banner hanging on the wall behind him. Tobio knows what it says without looking, each wobbly line of paint and misshapen volleyball that his fifth graders have drawn.

Hinata is still staring openly at Tobio, mouth hanging slightly open. Tobio uses his silence to push forward, swallowing dryly. “And if I had gone pro, there would be other things that I’d have to give up.”

“Like what?” Their faces are so close now that Tobio’s breath ghosts over Hinata’s cheek, ruffling his hair. Hinata smells of sweat and something faintly sweet, like flowers.

“I’ll tell you at Tanabata,” Tobio promises, impulsively. Hinata nods slowly and Tobio exhales shakily.

 

❀❀❀

 

The night of the Tanabata festival is clear with a slight cool breeze. Shouyou’s mother manages to find an old _yukata_ from his high school days. The sleeves are just a little shorter than Shouyou remembers, to his surprise and pleasure.

“You’ve grown up so well,” Shouyou’s mother says, straightening the fabric over his shoulders. She has the evening off as well, and although she still looks tired, Shouyou knows she’s looking forward to going out with the other mothers in the neighborhood association. She’s also dressed herself in a sedately colored yukata, but she’s pinned her hair back over her ear with one of Natsu’s rhinestone-studded hair clips.

“Now, who are you trying to impress tonight?” she asks, eyes sparkling with mischief, and Shouyou feels his face heat.

“I’m just meeting with friends,” he says and his mother makes a disbelieving noise.

“A special friend?”

“Maybe,” Shouyou says. “A new friend.  I’ll introduce you two later.” His mother pouts, almost girlishly, and Shouyou laughs.,“Let’s go, don’t you want to gossip with the neighborhood ladies?”

Shouyou parts ways with his mother when they get to the festival grounds. Shouyou finds his friends clustered by the temple entrance. He’s surprised to see Tsukishima and Yamaguchi standing next to Sugawara, who looks even happier than usual that everyone has come.

“Kageyama isn’t here yet,” Sugawara tells Shouyou when he gets close. Shouyou doesn’t want to think about how Sugawara knows.

“Who’s that?” Tsukishima asks above their heads in his obnoxious grating voice and Shouyou quickly turns to look. Kageyama is standing awkwardly at the edge of their group and Sugawara waves him over.

“Saeko-san’s troupe is about to start soon, so we should go where they are now,” Daichi announces. Shouyou hangs back from the group to walk with Kageyama.

“The _yukata_ looks good on you,” Kageyama says. The loud drumming and yells of the _wadaiko_ performers prevent Shouyou from saying anything in reply but he grins back at Kageyama. The audience begins to push back and forth as people gather to watch and soon Kageyama and Shouyou get separated from Sugawara and the others.

“Should we look for everyone else?” Shouyou asks, looking around after the performance has ended. Kageyama doesn’t look particularly concerned.

“We’ll probably run into them eventually,” he answers, and Shouyou nods in agreement.

Flowers and paper ornaments color their path as they walk around the festival stalls together, Kageyama pushing easily through the crowd with his height advantage. Shouyou finds out that Kageyama is -- unsurprisingly -- quite competitive as he tries and fails to catch goldfish at one of the game stalls. 

“Look, fireworks!” Shouyou points to the sky with a stick of yakitori in his hand, and Kageyama loses his fish again.

“I almost had it this time,” Kageyama says, frowning, and Shouyou rolls his eyes, tugging at his arm.

“Forget the fish. Let’s go watch!”

Shouyou drags Kageyama to sit down at the river bank, where many of the festival-goers have already settled down. In the dark with no one watching, it’s easy for Shouyou to sit close to Kageyama, who moves his arm so that Shouyou is nearly tucked into his side. Shouyou dares to sneak a glance up at Kageyama’s face. The fireworks reflect off of Kageyama’s blue eyes and Shouyou can see the wide night sky reflected in them, a haze of smoke and stars full of possibility. Shouyou tentatively turns his hand outward so that it brushes against Kageyama’s. Kageyama slides his hand forward, fingers lacing loosely with Shouyou’s.

“Is this one of your reasons?” Shouyou’s question can barely be heard over the popping of the fireworks and Kageyama leans down so Shouyou can repeat himself. Kageyama answers and Shouyou can’t hear him either but the fireworks light up his face and Shouyou can see his mouth open. He tightens his grip and Kageyama holds his gaze.

_Yes._

 

❀❀❀

 

Tobio waits for Hinata outside of his job training center with a bag of meat buns and a bottle of Pocari Sweat. Hinata emerges from his evening class and runs up to Tobio with an excited cry when he sees him.

“So hungry!” Hinata whines, pawing at Tobio. He crows triumphantly, stuffing a meat bun into his mouth, when Tobio surrenders.

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Tobio says, forehead wrinkled, but the corner of his mouth twitches as Hinata swallows and lets out a contented sigh. “How was it today?”

“I really don’t understand numbers,” Hinata says, stretching. “Yachi-san promised to help me.”

Hinata had originally asked Tobio to tutor him but it hadn’t ended well. Tobio had gotten into university thanks to a sports recommendation and intense study sessions with Kunimi to pass his exams. Tobio had been just as confused as Hinata, and eventually Hinata had to ask his friends for help.

“What about you, how was club practice today?” Hinata asks.

“It was fine,” Tobio says. They get to the bus stop just as the bus arrives, cutting their conversation short. Well fed, Hinata begins to nod off right away, falling asleep like a baby once the bus starts moving. Tobio is used to it by now, though.

They get off at the stop near Tobio’s apartment. Hinata follows Tobio sleepily up the stairs and into Tobio’s bedroom, shedding his clothes as he goes.

“Hey, brush your teeth before you go to sleep on my bed,” Tobio yells at him from the doorway. Hinata wriggles, burrowing deeper into the blankets.

“Nooo,” he whines and Tobio takes it upon himself to push Hinata off the mattress, blankets and all. “So mean, Kageyama-kun!” Hinata cries.

It’s easy to manipulate Hinata once they’re in the bathroom, placing his toothbrush and then the tube of toothpaste into his hands. A month is long enough for Hinata to carve out a place for himself in Tobio’s home. There’s always fresh flowers in the living room now and Tobio waters them himself, trimming the stems and carefully arranging the flowers in a delicate glass vase.

“Sleep?” Hinata asks, rubbing his eyes as he waits outside the bedroom door. It’s unbearably cute and Tobio readily indulges him, turning off the lights. The weather has been getting cooler in the evenings as autumn approaches and Tobio lets Hinata cuddle close to him in bed.

“You’re not working tomorrow, right?” Tobio asks. Hinata peers out from under the covers, hair already disheveled.

“Gonna take me out on a date?” he jokes. Tobio ignores it.

“I thought you could come to my class in the afternoon,” Tobio says. “Help the kids practice.”

“Hmm, the great Kageyama asking me for help? I guess I’ll consider it,” Hinata says cheekily, throwing his leg over Tobio’s body. Clicking his tongue, Tobio puts his hand on the back of Hinata’s hip in warning. “Sure, fine, of course!”

“Thanks.” Tobio moves his hand up to slide up to cup Hinata’s head, running his fingers through Hinata’s hair, and Hinata practically purrs in contentment.

“Night,” Hinata mumbles wetly into Tobio’s side, spreading out so that he’s practically lying on top of Tobio.

“You,” Tobio says after a few minutes. “Where do you want to go next time you have a day off?”

Hinata hums in sleepy confusion.  Doesn’t matter,” he manages to say. Tobio frowns and Hinata must sense the wrinkles forming between his eyebrows because he butts his head against Tobio’s chest.,“As long as I’m with you, 's fine.” Hinata flops back down, making himself comfortable again. In the dark, Tobio lets himself smile into Hinata’s hair, falling asleep to the easy rhythm of Hinata’s soft snoring and his surrounding warmth.


End file.
